Death of a Smack Blog

It's a very sad thing to see a top-notch blog end. I know we all have our reasons for closing down when the time comes, but Ms. Smack is an icon out here in blogworld. She's decided to hang it up and say 'goodbye.' Even though I can still harass her on Facebook, it just isn't the same. I'm going to miss reading The Smack.

I've been trying something new here lately. I'm trying to figure out how to actually make some kind of difference for good. This is easier said than done as I have discovered that a middle class, white, male, with no media connections and no billionaire CEOs backing me, doesn't get much attention from anyone in politics. My own state governor, when asked to look into some basic human rights issues, effectively told me that he doesn't have the power to pass laws or oversee anything of that nature in the state of which he is governor. This is what is commonly known as 'passing the buck', or as I call it "begging to be impeached."

What is the deal with men's dress pants? I sat through a meeting with an attractive woman on my right, and an attractive woman on my left, and one of those weird men's pants 'pyramids' on my crotch that form whenever we sit down in dress pants. It makes it appear as if I have an erection. What am I supposed to do with this situation? Should I laugh and then just (gently) smash it flat with my hand? Should I scoot under the table, like men do with a real erection when it arises at such an inopportune time? Or should I do what I did, and just sit there ignoring it and assuming that both women knew it was just empty air and material? It's kind of embarassing. And apparently it's somewhat distracting for the women.

I've had a piece of glass stuck in the bottom of my foot for at least 6 months. It's microscopic and impossible for me to see. For a time I thought I had actually removed it, but I was wrong. I have been unable to run at all because my foot has been feeling bruised up until just recently, when I tried to solve this problem, only to make my foot hurt much, much worse. So, I'm going to see the father of a hot girl I knew in back school, a man who happens to be a foot doctor, in the hope that he can find the broken glass with some machine and then dig it out. It's in so deep that I can no longer point to exactly where the pain is and say "that's where you should cut." So, this is going to be loads of fun. Ever had a shot in the soul of your foot? I have. It's sort of like having your genitals pierce. It hurts.

It won't quit raining here in the Deep South. Atlanta, Georgia, has received so much rain that they've actually had fatalities associated with the flash floods. It's ironic because for over 10 years they've had drought and were reaching a critical water shortage. So they actually need this rain, just not quite so fast that it washes babies out of mother's arms and carries them to their deaths.

In case you're still reading this, first of all, thank you, and second, you may be wondering "where's the funny?" Well, I'm exhausted today and not feeling overly funny. I told every joke I know at the gym already and now I need some new ones. So, how about you write me a joke in the comments so I can go back to the gym and impress all the hard-bodies with my awesome sense of humor via new jokes I stole from you?

OK, so it takes more than jokes to impress women at the gym, but jokes are all I've got. I'm no Justin Timberlake, you know. Jessica Biel isn't going to give me the time of day if I'm not making her laugh.

Help! Toss me a joke before she kills me!

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